


A long journey

by nat_oliver



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A journey into a creepy forest, AU, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Angst, Child Neglect, Curse Breaking, Cursed Derek, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fae & Fairies, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Beta, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Scott and Lydia are Siblings, Scott is a Good Friend, Unrequited Love, Werewolf Derek, Witch Kate, until the moment he is not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:25:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1501790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nat_oliver/pseuds/nat_oliver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU based on a legend, where Stiles is a boy who goes on an adventure, looking for his lost father in the Hale Forest, a dangerous place with fairies, werewolves and other magical creatures. Stiles will live adventures, meet new friends and find his true love, a young man who was cursed by the same witch who lured his father.</p><p>Can true love break this curse?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A long journey

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everybody!  
> This is an Au based on a fairy tale of my country, "Hoje é dia de Maria". I've changed a few things to fit with the fandom, but the concept is basicly the same. Any doubts about the original fairy tale you may ask me on comments and i'll answer you the best I can.  
> English is not my first language, I don't have a beta, so I'm sorry for the grammatical errors, I'm really trying to make a good work here.  
> I'll try to update once a week.  
> Tell me if you liked it. Comments and Kudos really cheers me up to keep going!  
> Thank you for reading!

My mother told me this story, and her mother told her, and her mother told her before that, and so on. This is not a happy story at the beginning. Like a storm, the winds are violent before it all calm down. But there will be good things too, after all the life isn’t made just of tears. You'll smile, you'll cry, you will cheer the hero, you will curse the villain, but hey, that's just a story, right?

Well, it all started a long time ago, in a place far, far away called _Beaconshire_. It was a quiet place with simple people, not the kind of place one might call ‘big city’. Beaconshire was built close to the Great Road that lead to the north, its economy was based on what its people could produce in their farms and sell to the travelers and peddlers that crossed the city every day. Things like silk and leather, meat and spices. But anyone who wanted to head to the north would have also to cross the _Hale Forest_. The last breath of civilization before an ocean of trees. They said that this forest was so great that if someone lost the trail, They would never be found and remain wandering through the trees forever.

That was an old enchanted forest, the elders said. There were strange things living in there, magical creatures, witches, werewolves, fairies, elves. Not that one might see many of those, these creatures were very skittish and wary about humans and their rare meetings always ended badly for humans. There was a gate on the edge of the city with guards who protected it. That’s because some humans had disappeared in the dead of night, they had headed to the forest and never returned. People said that Kate, the _Witch_ , was the one to be blamed. Some had saw her with her red hair and green eyes, walking among the trees. No one knew why she did it to the unfortunate men who were weak enough to falling in her spell. The best they could do was try and stay out of her way

All the travelers had been warned to stay on the trail that cut through the great forest, and they wouldn’t dare to disobey the advice. Every traveler had one or two stories to tell about seeing shapes and shadows among the trees in the dead of night.

There was a fair in the town center where the villagers sold the produce of their farms and ranches, and it wasn't rare to see a bunch of kids sitting at the feet of a traveler, listening intently to the stories about distant cities, fairies and battles, things that filled the their imagination and made them dream about adventures.

Ironically, the _adventure_ came to the only child who wasn’t expecting it. A boy named _Stiles_.

 

****

The boy's life has not been easy since very young. His mother, Claudia, had died when he was only ten years old. He didn’t know exactly how, and his father didn’t speak much about it. He remembered that she was a very beautiful and gentle woman. She loved flowers and had a garden and his house smelled like roses. He remembered that his father used to say that she was half fairy, he said his mother was the daughter of a fairy from the Hale Forest. He said that’s why she was so different. Stiles thought that she was simply divine. When she died, John said she had returned to her people in the forest and very often Stiles was seen walking alone to the city limits, to the Gate, to try to get in the Forest and see her, but the guards just looked at him with pity and sent him back. Two or three times he had also seen John at the Gate.

Stiles remembered that his father loved her and that he never accepted her death. Because John was always drunk, he lost his job as the Sheriff and his house in the town. Some relatives who pitied the child donated them a house where they could live. The property was large and there was space for a garden and for raising animals, if they knew how to work, they could live relatively well.

Stiles had grown to be a beautiful young man. His hair was brown and short, his eyes were brown, but you could see golden spots when you looked closely. His skin was white, but slightly tanned by daily work. Now at seventeen, Stiles was responsible for most of the work on their small farm, a fact that also gave him a body in good shape.

Stiles was reading a book, sitting on the ground under the shade of a tree in his backyard. That was a nice afternoon, the sun was mild and a gentle breeze shook the leaves from the branches above his head. He liked those moments of peace, albeit rare. The pages of the book that had yellowed over the years and its cover was frayed, but Stiles didn’t care, he loved that book, because it had been a gift from his mother. He still clung to the memory with all his might, for he feared that one day he would forget her.

Then he heard a howl, and the attention he was paying to the book he was reading was broken briefly. It was not the first time he heard this howl. His house was on the outskirts of the city, the nearest at the Gate, and from where he sat he could see the dark trees. He had grown up hearing stories about the creatures that lived in that forest and more than once he thought he could feel eyes watching him from the forest, red eyes, a presence that seemed never to leave him alone when he was outside doing his tasks. He did not know who was making that howl, or what, and he did not really want to think. The boy shook his head and went back to reading his book.

Stiles liked to read, that was just one of the many books he owned. He liked to delve into fantasies about wizards and knights and adventures and novels, everything he could learn and keep, but he had no illusions - or desire - that something like that could happen to him. His place was there, with his father.

"Stiles" The boy heard his father calling him from inside the house. Stiles closed the book and snapped his head up. "Stiles!" His father called him again, loud and harshly.

He knew that tone. John was drunk again. Stiles took a deep breath, stood up and headed to the house. When his father was in that state of drunkenness, Stiles had to have patience, and he had, because above all things he loved his father. Stiles opened the backdoor hesitantly and entered the kitchen. There was his father near the wood stove, watching Stiles with a enraged face. His eyes were red, his clothes were wrinkled and he stank of beer. Stiles was silent for a moment not knowing what had angered his father this time, it could have been anything.

"Yes, Dad?" Stiles said after a while.

"Where have you been?" He asked.

"Outside." Stiles said frowning.

Then John spotted the book in his hands.

"Reading a book? Again? You lazy brat... " He said through gritted teeth.

"I've finished my chores!" Stiles said trying to defend himself. "I've fed the chickens and pigs, I’ve sowed the seeds on the garden, everything is done!"

"And the food?" John grabbed one of the pans that were on the stove and threw it on the wall, almost hitting Stiles. "Why the food is cold?!"

Stiles looked horrified at his father.

"It was warm three hours ago when I called you for lunch!" Stiles begged, taking a few steps back.

"You are a insolent brat! You’re always defying me, you never do anything right! I'll teach you how to behave!"

John approached the boy and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. John raised his hand to punch the boy's face and Stiles looked at him with wide eyes full of fear. Stiles was terrified. That man wasn’t his father, that man _could not_ be his father. Only then John realized what he was about to do. His hand fell at his side, he let go of Stiles, even more terrified than the boy.

"I'm sorry, Stiles ..." John mumbled and took a few steps back putting as much distance he could between the two.

The boy ran to his bedroom where he locked the door and threw himself on the bed. The boy could not breathe. He was shaking from head to toe. Since his mother died, his father had sought solace in drinking, Stiles tried to help him as best he could, but it was hard because his father pushed him away. Stiles had learned that there were times when he should stay away from his father, times when he should to be there to offer a shoulder for him to cry on and times when he should just ignore him. His life was lonely, but when John was sober, he was a great father. But he had never raised his hand to hurt Stiles, never. That was the first time he was afraid of his father. The boy cried, because John was the only thing he had left in the world. He cried and cried and then he did the only thing he could do, the only thing that brought him comfort. He prayed to his mother.

He usually did this when he felt sad, or scared, or alone. At the moment he felt all those things and more. He was alone, and he was just a kid, trying to manage the duties of the house, trying to keep his father on the line, trying not to lose faith, but it was getting increasingly difficult.

With a sigh, he rose from the bed and knelt on the floor. He joined his hands and began to pray.

"Mom, please give me strength, watch over me." He cried "I can’t do this alone." He wiped his tears with his sleeves. "Forgive him, he is a good man, he is just alone ... he misses you, as I do." He sniffed. "Why did you had to leave me?"

His shoulders were shaking, his eyes burned with new tears, but after a while he was so tired that his body succumbed. Before his eyes closed, he heard a painful howl as if the creature was suffering along with him and somehow, at that moment, he didn't felt alone.

When John heard the door of Stiles’ bedroom be closed with a bang he realized what he had done. He had almost hurt his own child, and why? Feeling worse than trash, John left the house and headed to a tavern, where he drank more and more, to try and forget that he was a bastard who didn’t deserve the wonderful son he had.

After a few hours of drinking he was going home tripping over his legs when he heard. It was a song, a voice far away which sang something in a language he didn’t know. He straightened up and looked around, everything was dark because it was late in the evening and there was nobody in the alleys.

John began to feel strangely attracted to that voice that sang. He did not understand the words, but he was sure they were talking about woods, rivers and waterfalls, a beautiful place, where there was no sadness or memories. Tripping over his legs, John followed this song, his feet were being commanded by a superior force that impelled him to move on. A villager saw when John Stilinski, former sheriff, widower and father of a boy entered the Hale Forest. That was the last time he was seen in Beaconshire.

 

****

Stiles woke up on the next morning feeling a headache. He had cried so much that he had fallen asleep. He rose from his bed and left the room on tiptoes. He didn’t know if his father was awake already and he didn’t want to disturb his father by making unnecessary noises.

As quietly as possible the kid made the breakfast and when everything was ready he went to his father's bedroom to wake him, but he found the room empty. Stiles didn’t gave much importance to this, it was not the first time his father was out drinking and spent the night in the tavern.

Thinking it was better to get on with his tasks not to be scolded again, he gathered some bundles of herbs from his garden, he put them in a basket and headed to the city center to sell what he could at the fair, the work was hard, but it distracted him from his sadness.

He had managed to sell almost everything he had brought to the fair. He sat behind a pillar to count the money he had made when he began to hear a conversation between two villagers who did not noticed his presence.

"I’ve heard that John, the former sheriff, was lured by the Witch last night." One said to the other in a low voice.

Stiles snapped his head up and listened. What this man was saying?

"And I’ve heard he was drunk." Another giggled.

"You’re right, but one of the villagers saw him get into the forest by the bushes." the first said seriously and the other was silent.

Stiles's heart nearly stopped at that moment. His father had entered the forest alone?

"Poor boy. Losing both parents, it must be terrible."

Stiles got up stumbling and came out from behind the pillar. He stared at the two men who now had a startled look to see that the young man who they were talking about was there in front of them.

"What happened to my father?" Stiles demanded to know.

"Stiles, well, uh ..." one of them stammered.

"Tell me now!" Stiles yelled, his hands were shaking.

"The Witch ..." the other one spoke. "She drew your father to the forest ... I'm sorry."

Stiles didn’t want to hear anything more. He left his basket fall to the ground and ran towards its home. When he reached his home he was panting and his legs were throbbing with the effort. He left the door wide open when he entered and searched for his father in every room in the house without find him.

_No, no, no, no, no, no ..._

No, this could not be happening, not with him. He could not lose his father. He'd be all alone, his father was everything he had. Stiles could feel the tears streaming down his face, he could not breathe, his whole body shook and he fell to the ground, curling into a ball and letting the panic swallow him whole.

What would he do now? What would he do? First his mother died, now his father abandoned him. Why such bad things were happening to him? He felt so small and useless. After a few moments of sheer terror, Stiles was calming down. Stiles wiped the tears from his face and stood up from the floor. It was then that he made his decision.

Stiles ran to his room and grabbed his bag. He returned to the kitchen and put some food inside the bag and filled his canteen with water. He returned to his room and put a thick comforter in the bag and some other things he just couldn't leave behind, like his old book. He put on his red cloak, grabbed the coins he had saved, he put it in his pocket and walked out the door. He would enter the Hale Forest, he would find his father.

But what if he did not find John? His father was the only thing he had, without him, there was nothing to bind him to that place. There was nothing behind him but suffering, and in front of him now there was hope, hope of finding his father and maybe somewhere far away where things could be better.

Stiles approached the gate. There were two guards protecting the entrance, wearing armor and holding spears. One was a dark-haired boy, a little bit older than Stiles himself and the other was a man with beard that Stiles recalled from the other times he came to the Gate. The older guard saw him approaching and left his post, he walked toward Stiles and blocked his way.

"Hey boy, where do you think you're going?" He asked.

"I'm going in there." Stiles said pointing to the forest.

The guard smiled and shook his head.

"Go home, boy."

"I no longer have a home." Stiles said sharply.

The guard looked at him and then his expression became dark, not with anger, but with pity. He knew.

"You're the son of _that man_?" The guard said. "He did not pass through the gate, he went through the bushes, I would have stopped him if I had seen him." He said sincere. Stiles fought back the tears. "I'm sorry."

"I need to find him." Stiles said looking away.

"Son, he is lost, he followed _the_ _call of the witch_." He tried to explain.

"I don’t care, I'll find him." Stiles snarled.

The guard stepped back, amazed by the aggressiveness of the boy. He knew it would be useless to try to dissuade Stiles of his intention, it would be like talking to a stone.

"Good luck." The guard said, opening the way for Stiles. "God be with you." He said.

Stiles nodded and looked at the gate. He knew that probably it had no turning back, maybe he would never find his father, maybe John was lost in the forest, forever wandering without finding the way out, but search for him was something Stiles had to do. He took a deep breath before start walking towards the gate.

That was the last time that the guards or any other villager of Beaconshire saw Stiles.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and stay tunned, there will be more.  
> Next chapter Stiles finds Derek.


End file.
